P
Psychedelic
Guest
Original poster
The day was not cold, nor was it terribly mild. It was one of those days that seemed to inevitably result in the discomfort of any creature with enough modesty to wear clothes. The wind was chilly, and hardly predictable. The air was stirred in great gusts, though the buildings of the city - as well as the trees of the forest - served to block a great deal of the biting wind. Even so, for those that conducted business at the docks at the eastmost point of the settlement, heavy attire was a must. At least the sun was out. In places, where the wind was not too high, and structures - natural or manmade - did not interrupt the suns rays, it was a positively wonderful day. Unfortunately, there were few of these places in which to hide, and few people still that had enough time to waste on frivolities such as enjoying the weather. For most, the weather was merely a practical part of life. It dictated the abundance of this years crop, the health of livestock, and comfort was simply a bonus.
The city itself was a sprawling network of various districts, most of which blurred into one another. The main gate, situated to the south, was where most tradesmen entered. The markets were confined to this area, and every Thursday the city became even more packed than usual, as all sorts of peddlers invaded the place, along with scores of livestock of varying species. To the east, the fish market bled into the main dock. This area was dominated by vast warehouses, full of cargo, both legal and not. It was a hub of crime, and also where most of the taverns happened to be. Unfortunately, men of already questionable morals gathered here, and it was this bringing together of beer and brutes that led to an incredibly high murder rate. But, as long as the crime was kept to tIhe lower echelons of society, there would be no real call for changes to be made.
North of the hub of all things criminal, lay the homes of nobility, as well as the guilds and residences of skilled craftsmen, not to mention the rich merchants. There was also a third entrance to the city, through which only vetted peoples could enter. It allowed them to avoid being pickpocketed, or worse, as they ran the gauntlet through the mercantile district. Of course, there was crime in this area of the city, it was merely well hidden. Murders were attributed to corrupt staff - and so the assassinations continued. It was all thanks to the guard turning a blind eye. As long as the nobles were happy, the coffers would remain full, and life would be good. This area was well guarded, and was almost a second city of its own. It was rare for anyone other than house staff or foreign visitors to see beyond the stone wall that protected the well to do men and women from the riffraff. On ocassion a burglar managed to find his way over the fence, but these were inevitably made examples to the community. The Baron that held order in the city, led with an ironfist, which the guard were all too keen to utilise. Although it might have seemed barbaric to some, his zero tolerance policy had at least lowered the crime rate a little, though it still remained rather high.
Finally, the western portion of the city was simply the place where most of the people lived. It had its problems, much like all the other districts, but for the most part it was a rather hum drum area. Unfortunately, few of the men and women that lived here had any time to spend here, or posessions worth stealing. There was little in the way of policing in this area, though courtesy rounds were made. And of course, taxes were always collected.
The city itself was open to the elements, as it was situated in a relatively open area. Although a large forest sprawled just a few miles away, the majority of the land was flat and ideally suited to farming. It was this that had caused the place to become populated initially, and had subsequently resulted in the wealth of many who lived there. Farming was a hard life, but it was nothing compared to what many endured. The citizens had only to think of arid lands or snowtopped mountains to realise how lucky they truly were. Needless to say, few ever did this. Their lot in life was theirs to groan over, and so they did.
Today was a Wednesday. As the general open market took place the following day, it was a considerably busier time than some of the other days of the week. Merchants that travelled to various locations throughout the country inevitably arrived on this day, and so the gates were inundated with a steady stream of rabble. Some peddled jewellery, others sold their fattened pigs, competing with the locals for a share of the wealth. Given that it was an export ccity, it was lucrative to come here, although a certainamount of risk remained, but this was apparently outweighed by the potential gains. So they just kept coming.
One man among the influx of merchants did not quite fit. He was not frightening in his manner, it was merely the extent of his finely crafted armour, along with the lethal arsenal of weaponry he carried that caused many others to give him a slightly wider berth than they might usually have. He was built like an ox, strong, sturdy and imposing. And as luck would have it, he stepped in the leavings of said animal. The stench was more telling than the squelch, as the path into the city was already rather ruinously churned. The man glanced down at his foot, just checking that it wasn't anything more untoward than a cowpat. He continued on his way, as did everyone else that stepped in these unpleasant things. Even the barefoot just had to accept it as part of life.
Kain made his way quietly through the mash of bodies seeking entry to the city. He did not use his bulk to force his way past the weaker, although he did use it to keep others from taking advantage. It only took him his standing his ground to cause any impatient men and women to back off, and he barely even knew the effect he was having. Had he really thought about it, his actions wouldn't have changed. There was no discernible reason to batter ones way into the city. There was plenty of time until the gate closed at sundown, it was not even noon.
When noon did finally come around, the anonymous man found himself within the city. He was slightly on edge, though he masked this well - not that it was difficult to do so when your face happens to be almost entirely covered by a helmet. Unfortunately for the curious, the eyes alone did not always give away too much about ones emotions. In truth, Kain was well aware that he now had just four days and a handful of hours to kill his next victim. He had planned his journey from an inland city to take only a week or so, but he had been blighted with many misfortunes. As a result, he had very little to scout a likely deserving soul, and less time still to actually do the deed.
Over the years, he had been in closer shaves, but it was not something he ever got used to. Why would he? He had no wish to die, and so he remained ever vigilant. The long striding man made his way through the dirt, away from the stench and noise of filthy animals, and towards the distinct aroma of alcohol, sea and blood. It was the perfect place for a man such as him. Kain knew that he would root out a target by nightfall, he had onnly to be patient.
The tavern which he chose to use as his resting place, as well as surveillance point was beyond old. He wasn't sure whether the name of the place had been weathered away with age, or else covered with a quite frankly impressive amount of dirt. Whatever the case, it was just the sort of establishment that criminals frequented. It was dark and hazy inside, full of stale air and the sense that plenty of people had died here.
As it was still relatively early in the drinking day, Kain found that he was the only conscience patron at the moment. One or two louts were still slumped on the floor or over the bar, apparently still utterly sozzled after the night before. Kain paid them no mind, instead preferring to find himself a relatively clean seat in one of the darker places of the tavern, now simply sitting and waiting. He wasn't exactly comfortable here, mainly because of the weight of his armour, along with the bulk of his weapons, but it was something he had become used to over the years. A little discomfort was no reason to shed ones protective skin, particularly when in such a potentially dangerous place as this. Although he was sure he could take out any number of drunkards, a swarm of them could be a problem - should he manage to offend them. In any event, there was no point in taking silly risks.
OOC here
The city itself was a sprawling network of various districts, most of which blurred into one another. The main gate, situated to the south, was where most tradesmen entered. The markets were confined to this area, and every Thursday the city became even more packed than usual, as all sorts of peddlers invaded the place, along with scores of livestock of varying species. To the east, the fish market bled into the main dock. This area was dominated by vast warehouses, full of cargo, both legal and not. It was a hub of crime, and also where most of the taverns happened to be. Unfortunately, men of already questionable morals gathered here, and it was this bringing together of beer and brutes that led to an incredibly high murder rate. But, as long as the crime was kept to tIhe lower echelons of society, there would be no real call for changes to be made.
North of the hub of all things criminal, lay the homes of nobility, as well as the guilds and residences of skilled craftsmen, not to mention the rich merchants. There was also a third entrance to the city, through which only vetted peoples could enter. It allowed them to avoid being pickpocketed, or worse, as they ran the gauntlet through the mercantile district. Of course, there was crime in this area of the city, it was merely well hidden. Murders were attributed to corrupt staff - and so the assassinations continued. It was all thanks to the guard turning a blind eye. As long as the nobles were happy, the coffers would remain full, and life would be good. This area was well guarded, and was almost a second city of its own. It was rare for anyone other than house staff or foreign visitors to see beyond the stone wall that protected the well to do men and women from the riffraff. On ocassion a burglar managed to find his way over the fence, but these were inevitably made examples to the community. The Baron that held order in the city, led with an ironfist, which the guard were all too keen to utilise. Although it might have seemed barbaric to some, his zero tolerance policy had at least lowered the crime rate a little, though it still remained rather high.
Finally, the western portion of the city was simply the place where most of the people lived. It had its problems, much like all the other districts, but for the most part it was a rather hum drum area. Unfortunately, few of the men and women that lived here had any time to spend here, or posessions worth stealing. There was little in the way of policing in this area, though courtesy rounds were made. And of course, taxes were always collected.
The city itself was open to the elements, as it was situated in a relatively open area. Although a large forest sprawled just a few miles away, the majority of the land was flat and ideally suited to farming. It was this that had caused the place to become populated initially, and had subsequently resulted in the wealth of many who lived there. Farming was a hard life, but it was nothing compared to what many endured. The citizens had only to think of arid lands or snowtopped mountains to realise how lucky they truly were. Needless to say, few ever did this. Their lot in life was theirs to groan over, and so they did.
Today was a Wednesday. As the general open market took place the following day, it was a considerably busier time than some of the other days of the week. Merchants that travelled to various locations throughout the country inevitably arrived on this day, and so the gates were inundated with a steady stream of rabble. Some peddled jewellery, others sold their fattened pigs, competing with the locals for a share of the wealth. Given that it was an export ccity, it was lucrative to come here, although a certainamount of risk remained, but this was apparently outweighed by the potential gains. So they just kept coming.
One man among the influx of merchants did not quite fit. He was not frightening in his manner, it was merely the extent of his finely crafted armour, along with the lethal arsenal of weaponry he carried that caused many others to give him a slightly wider berth than they might usually have. He was built like an ox, strong, sturdy and imposing. And as luck would have it, he stepped in the leavings of said animal. The stench was more telling than the squelch, as the path into the city was already rather ruinously churned. The man glanced down at his foot, just checking that it wasn't anything more untoward than a cowpat. He continued on his way, as did everyone else that stepped in these unpleasant things. Even the barefoot just had to accept it as part of life.
Kain made his way quietly through the mash of bodies seeking entry to the city. He did not use his bulk to force his way past the weaker, although he did use it to keep others from taking advantage. It only took him his standing his ground to cause any impatient men and women to back off, and he barely even knew the effect he was having. Had he really thought about it, his actions wouldn't have changed. There was no discernible reason to batter ones way into the city. There was plenty of time until the gate closed at sundown, it was not even noon.
When noon did finally come around, the anonymous man found himself within the city. He was slightly on edge, though he masked this well - not that it was difficult to do so when your face happens to be almost entirely covered by a helmet. Unfortunately for the curious, the eyes alone did not always give away too much about ones emotions. In truth, Kain was well aware that he now had just four days and a handful of hours to kill his next victim. He had planned his journey from an inland city to take only a week or so, but he had been blighted with many misfortunes. As a result, he had very little to scout a likely deserving soul, and less time still to actually do the deed.
Over the years, he had been in closer shaves, but it was not something he ever got used to. Why would he? He had no wish to die, and so he remained ever vigilant. The long striding man made his way through the dirt, away from the stench and noise of filthy animals, and towards the distinct aroma of alcohol, sea and blood. It was the perfect place for a man such as him. Kain knew that he would root out a target by nightfall, he had onnly to be patient.
The tavern which he chose to use as his resting place, as well as surveillance point was beyond old. He wasn't sure whether the name of the place had been weathered away with age, or else covered with a quite frankly impressive amount of dirt. Whatever the case, it was just the sort of establishment that criminals frequented. It was dark and hazy inside, full of stale air and the sense that plenty of people had died here.
As it was still relatively early in the drinking day, Kain found that he was the only conscience patron at the moment. One or two louts were still slumped on the floor or over the bar, apparently still utterly sozzled after the night before. Kain paid them no mind, instead preferring to find himself a relatively clean seat in one of the darker places of the tavern, now simply sitting and waiting. He wasn't exactly comfortable here, mainly because of the weight of his armour, along with the bulk of his weapons, but it was something he had become used to over the years. A little discomfort was no reason to shed ones protective skin, particularly when in such a potentially dangerous place as this. Although he was sure he could take out any number of drunkards, a swarm of them could be a problem - should he manage to offend them. In any event, there was no point in taking silly risks.
OOC here
